


The First and Last Love Song of William Sherlock Scott Holmes

by killaidanturner



Series: Threnody [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Journal, Letters, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Series 03 Fix It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2762579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killaidanturner/pseuds/killaidanturner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock spends two years writing on the backs of receipts and airplane tickets while he is away. The habit continues when he returns to Baker Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First and Last Love Song of William Sherlock Scott Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one day when I was on the train on my way home from work. It continued on for two days until it got out of my head. Any errors are mine.

**[Copy of Death Certificate; Sherlock Holmes]** Molly did a brilliant job with this. With my help of course. It could fool anyone. I don’t know why I asked for a copy of this. Maybe for a reminder as to why I’m doing this. Mostly because I can’t fit Baker Street into luggage, but also because I have to go without you.

 **[Back of a Eurostar ticket, Paris]** Have you ever taken the Eurostar into Paris? The walls leading into the train station are covered in graffiti. They are not declarations of love or words of inspiration. This graffiti is just a juveniles way of passing the time. Paris is over romanticised and overrated, grime parts overlooked. You would absolutely love it. You would love the florist shops and cafes. You would complain about prices and I would agree. You would see the Eiffel Tower and I would tell you all about the World's Fair and the inventions that were presented there. I cannot bare this place without thinking of you.

 **[Serviette from a café; Avignon, France]** I'll never drink a cup of tea again without thinking of you.

 **[Receipt from the back of a cab; New York]** I took a cab in New York today. It was too bright, traffic was worse than England. The space next to me where you should be sitting was like a chasm I could fall into. The upholstery was uncomfortable. I remembered your laugh after Buckingham and I had to leave the cab 6 blocks before my destination.

 **[Metro rail ticket Chicago]** I do not like America with all of its vast cities. The tube stations are not as efficient. You always preferred taking the tube.

 **[Hotel stationary; Tokyo]** I don't know how I got here. One lead after another and I am staring at bright lights. I feel like even in the cover of darkness I would easily be found. The hotel is unbearably small. There is a sushi cart down the road where a man is standing there flipping shrimp on his grill. Do you remember after the case with the man who was embezzling money from his charity (obvious) and we went out for sushi after. We were sitting at the table, chef in front of us and I told you the origin of sushi (1336 roughly). I remember explaining in detail, holding a roll in between my fingers and when I looked from it to you, you were smiling at me. It wasn't your normal smile, the one you give to be polite. It was the one that I could swear was just for me. Your face was lit up and for that moment I forgot what it was I was talking about. I was so enamoured by your smile. I hate sushi, smelling it from the cart made my stomach turn.

 **[Wax paper from a pastry bag; China]** You always said I had a sweet tooth.

 **[Plane ticket; Russia]** I never got to go on a plane with you. I imagine you would be nervous. Not from the flight, but for my behaviour. You would assume I would sulk being trapped in the air with nothing to entertain me for hours on end. But I would have you and that would be enough.

 **[Crumbled up stationary; Russia]** Its unbearably cold here, it's hateful. The snow doesn't seem to end. Do you remember the first time we watched the snow fall together? Though I suppose you weren't really watching. I was playing my violin, it was around Christmas. The first time I played for you. Did you know that it was just for you? I watched the snow as you watched me. Every flake that falls reminds me of you.

 **[Brochure for historical sites; Germany]** Please do not think that all of these places that I have been are exciting. Do not see all of these scattered remains of my travels and mistake them for joy. Sometimes I grab things just to write on, sometimes they served a purpose, like a ticket for travel or this brochure that helped me blend into the hotel lobby. I have no other way to sort the thoughts in my head.

 **[Plane ticket; Afghanistan]** I do not like where I am going.

 **[Parchment for a piece of wrapped Naan]** So far the only joy here is the food. Did you have a chance to eat the food when you were here? Or was it all military food? You would enjoy the spices. There are even whole markets for those. The food is considerably better than the takeaway place on Blandford Street.

 **[First page from the Qur'an]** Please do not lecture me about ripping pages from a religious book. It was the only thing available at the moment. It took me 17 hours to pick up on the dialect. Not my best. I can't go a moment without thinking of you here. Did you like the heat? It's dreadful. I see the sand, millions of grains laid beneath my feet and all I can think of is you. Did you bleed onto the sand? Did it soak up your DNA? I feel you all around me. I hate it here. I hate the heat. I can feel the sand in my hair and eyes, rubbing against my throat, making my words come out raw and guttural. Don't ever come back here.

 **[Hotel paper; Dubai]** This is better, I feel like I can breathe again.

 **[Back of a bank statement, Barclays]** I am grateful for international banks but I much prefer being at home where you go down the road to the Barclays to withdrawal money for the shopping and to take care of the bills. That's why I chose this bank, another thing to remind me of you.

 **[Ferry ticket, South Africa]** I saw children playing a rugby game today. I imagined you in school, young, and sixteen, with a group of friends. You loved rugby then. That's when your father passed. I remember the night you told me. It was the night of his anniversary. You were sitting in your chair at Baker Street and the fire was going. You had a few glasses of whiskey, I believe the amber liquid helped you tell me about it. I don't know if you were afraid of what my reaction might be. I remember looking into the depths of your eyes and seeing sadness still there after all these years. You had never looked so vulnerable. I wanted to pull you in my arms and put my lips to your temple. Breathe in your scent (bergamot, sandalwood, aftershave). Instead I leaned across and rested my hand on your knee. It wasn't enough and it was all at once. You looked at me then, a thousand words between us. Could you tell what I was thinking? Could you see the elephant in the room? You leaned closer to me. I panicked and got out of my chair quickly, offering to make tea. I regret that every single day of my life. I should have leaned in too.

 **[Airplane safety manual]** I feel like this is the end. I'm heading into Serbia. What I wouldn't give to have you and your SIG next to me. I feel like we could take on the world like that. But you can't be here and I need you to understand that. That all of this is for you and I would choose what I am doing now every single day for the rest of my life if it means that you are safe. I need you to be at Baker Street when I return, I need it to be us. I need you home (I guess I would have to be home for that to happen). There is something I need to tell you, something I should have always said.

 **[Back of file for Dr.John H. Watson]** The moustache is ridiculous. You look dreadfully old. I haven't bothered to read what Mycroft put in here, the picture was enough.

 **[Blood stained serviette]** It felt good to have your hands around my throat.

 **[Mail addressed to John Watson at 221B Baker Street]** You don't live here anymore. You haven't for a while. What I wouldn't give to have you back home. You won't get this piece of mail, whether it's important or not. It's another reminder that Baker Street is empty without you. How can you call anywhere else home?

 **[Case notes, Jack the Ripper]** To say this case was an embarrassment for Scotland Yard doesn't even begin to cover it. It was my first case with them since being back and all I could hear was your voice. I can't seem to get you out of my head. I heard you the whole time I was away. Every night, in every moment of silence you were there. You saved my life so many times, how can I even begin to tell you?

 **[Case notes, The Fifth of November]** I don't know. It pains me to write it. I don't know who drugged you. I don't know why they texted Mary. Did you know she could read skip code? Clever. What was it you said she did before working at the clinic? No matter. In the two years I was away my heart never beat as fast as it did the other night. That fire. I'll never look at flames the same way again. If you would have burned I would have burned with you.

 **[Case notes; The Empty Hearse]** Awful name, really John. I’m surprised you didn’t call it something worse like _Mind the Gap_ since we were in the underground. Terrorist organization was my reason for coming back, did you know that? Mycroft came to Serbia and got me out of a very unfortunate situation. You'll never see the scars on my back, never see me walking around the flat again without a shirt to show off the purple and pink marks. One day they will be silver and shine in the light. I believe Mycroft could have handled this situation on his own. There was a much different reason for him bringing me back and I fear it has to do with you. My mind doesn't work the same way when it comes to you. I can't explain it, it's like the gears slow down and wrenches get thrown into the cogs. It was nice to have you with me again. I'm sorry for tricking you, of course I know how to disable a bomb, but to hear you forgive me, and it made it worth it. I needed your forgiveness John. You put that I left to go into hiding. True in a way. Will you ever understand what I went through to keep you safe? I can’t find a way to put it into words. I look at you and I want to shout, to explain every horrible thing I did while I was away. To tell you of the nightmares that now come to me in my rare hours of sleep. I wake up screaming, throat raw. You used to wake up that way too. Did it happen again when I was away? I’m sorry.

 **[Pack of Pall Mall's]** Do not smoke these.

 **[Inside the lid of an empty pack of Pall Mall’s]** Forgive me.

 **[Back of a wedding invitation]** There is sand in my throat.

 **[Inside cover of a best man book]** These ideas for speeches are absurd.

 **[Page 23 of best man book]** I may have ruined one of the biggest cases of Lestrade’s career because I can't think of a single thing to say about you and Mary. The sand is getting heavier.

 **[Sheet Music]** I'm writing a waltz. It's hard for me to imagine you with her. Smiling while you dance. Do you smile at her the way you used to smile at me? The idea came to me when you asked me to help you dance, your hand on my waist. Your fingertips lightly pressing against my robe. I swear I was burning. I imagined what song we would dance to and I decided to write it for you and Mary. I may never have the chance but it doesn't mean that you shouldn't be able to hear what I would have wrote for you. Will you be able to hear it in the crescendo? In the change in tempo? In every note will you hear how much I love you? It's hidden there on the sheets.

 **[Case file; The Invisible Man _(?)_ ]** I don't know what I expected to happen. But God laying with you on the stairs, shoulders to knees pressed together. My whole body felt alive in a way it hadn't in a long time. We went upstairs to play a stupid game, but it was nice to see you smile. Your hand touched my knee, we looked at each other. I saw the depth in your eyes, dilated pupils. I told you I don't mind. It was so quiet I could hear your thoughts, see them forming behind your blue eyes. I wanted to lean in. My hand was traveling to your wrist, I needed to make sure. Was your heart beating as fast as mine? I'll never abhor what happened next more than anything else in my life. An invisible man? A ghost of a boyfriend? Boring, boring, boring. That was my last chance.

 **[Back of receipt for bail; New Scotland Yard]** You're always right there with me. Public intoxication, not my best. Being in there with you made it feel like it was just us, against the rest of the world again. For a moment the world didn't exist outside of those cell walls. Would you still follow me? I would do that for you, follow you until the ends of the earth, until we were nothing but ash.

 **[Receipt for tux rental]** Normally I would purchase a tuxedo, another suit to add to the collection. But this one I cannot bare to have in Baker Street. It needs to go back into the shop where it can be washed, where someone else can rent it and hopefully the memories I have of it will be rinsed away and replaced with better ones. I've never hated a suit so much before in my life.

 **[Back of receipt from Harrods]** Ties are dreadful. Did I ever tell you that I hate ties? It's a noose around my neck and I am choking.

 **[Back of name place holder, wedding reception]** I told Mycroft that I'm not involved.

 **[Case notes; The Mayfly Man]** I couldn't have asked for a better distraction. It comes with the territory though doesn't it? I saw the way you looked at Major Sholto. You looked at me that way once. You looked at him the way you look at Mary. I can feel it twisting inside of me, crawling into my spine and taking root. I had to leave, you need to understand that. There's no longer any room for me. It's what you've always wanted. I'm glad you're finally happy.

 **[Case notes; Letters - Lady Smallwood]** Janine is not my girlfriend. Well in the sense that we are dating that is accurate. But not like that. See the thing is that I need her for a case, but then again it's always for a case. I can't even explain what it is like when her lips touch mine. It is not pleasant. Every time I have to be around her all I can think of is you. I could see your look of shock, even with my eyes closed. I could feel it in the room. Was it jealousy? I know that's wrong of me to ask but a part of me hopes it was. I'm not sorry about how you found me today. I knew you would be there. I knew of the neighbor’s son, I knew which house to be in. A part of you must know that, you wouldn't completely put it past me. Was the cocaine for a case? Isn't everything always for a case? No, you know better. I didn't take it for the reasons you think. I was not bored. I just needed it to stop, needed to stop thinking about you. You and Mary. Baker Street, your chair. Your chair, it still smells like you. I moved it to your room, it will always be your room. You asked me about the chair, of course you would. Did you really think it blocked my view? Do you think so little of how I view you? I'll tell you the rest tonight, of course you'll come with me.

 **[Back of receipt for Clair-de-la-lune]** You'll find this bottle on the table next to your chair. You'll sit in your chair and you'll know then that something is wrong. I don't know how to tell you this so I'm going to do it the only way I know how, by leading you to the conclusion. Did I always know there was something different about her? I hope you don't ask me that, it's a question I've asked myself and there is only one thing I was able to pull from my initial deductions. _Liar._ The word sits heavy on my tongue. A bad taste in my mouth, I can't seem to get it out. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for this, sorry that I didn't see it earlier. I was never actually looking you see, I couldn't look at her. Not like that, she wasn't just another one of your girlfriends for me to run off with wild deductions and absurd demands. I have a plan though, I always have a plan. This time it will be different, I won't leave you out. I'm just afraid of what this will do to you.

 **[Hospital Bill]** The vena cava. My heart stopped. Did the doctors tell you that? They had given up. You must have known, you’ve seen war. I couldn’t leave you with her. I had to come back. I’ll have to wait for a second bill to come in the post now that I’ve written all over this one. There is no feasible way I would be able to explain all of this to Mycroft, my writings I mean. (Don’t judge me, of course he is paying for the bill) I was never the writer between you and me, you were always my Boswell.

 **[Back of receipt, Indian takeaway]** You will never know the feeling of seeing this, your favourite order of curry on here.

 **[Back of a receipt for milk, Tesco]** I got the milk. I will get the milk every single day of the rest of our lives if it means that you will stay.

 **[Piece of blank paper]** It’s been two months. The first month was the worst. You didn’t laugh or smile. I could feel the tension in the room, straining across the space between us. Your grief weighing heavy in my arms. You smile now, even laugh sometimes. Your laugh, have I ever told you that it is my favourite sound? I realized it was my favourite sound when we were on a case over two years ago. I was laying on the couch, retreated to my Mind Palace. You know how I hate when there are people in the room when I am thinking, I have never minded when it was you though. I was deep in my Mind Palace and I heard your laugh through everything. I wasn’t bothered by it. It cut through everything else so clearly. My eyes shot open then, I looked over to you. You were in your chair reading, the look on your face told me that you had braced yourself for a hurricane because you had realized that I had heard you. I sat there looking at you, both of us not saying anything and that’s when I knew. I stopped thinking about the case and we went to Angelo’s. That night neither one of us protested when he put the candle on the table. Will we ever eat there again?

  
 **[Experiment; Blood Splatters on Different Surfaces, page 14]** I haven’t had any experiments around the flat in over two months, not since you moved back in. You confronted me out it. It was starting to make you uncomfortable how I was walking on glass around you. You asked me to start an experiment, to do _something, anything._ I don’t know if you’ll be happy about the blood on the wallpaper when you come home but this research will be important for future cases.

  
 **[Experiment; Blood Splatters on Different Surfaces, page 23]** You were livid. You yelled at me. _Jesus, Sherlock,_ as you pinched the bridge of your nose. You paced around the flat before storming upstairs to your room and slamming the door. You came back down an hour later. I had already cleaned everything up, narrowed the experiment down to the worktop in the kitchen. You asked me what I was doing, I explained my research. I could see the corners of your lips, a smile tugging at them. You helped me the rest of the night, dropping blood on different surfaces at different velocities. After that you explained to me that you weren’t upset about the experiment, not that I was doing one at least. You were upset because I had blood pooled on the floor and it reminded you of Bart’s. I didn’t mean to do that, I would never want you to relive that day. I will never be able to forgive myself for the hurt that I caused you. I see the scars on my back every single day in the mirror. I would do it all over again if I have to.

  
 **[Receipt from bakery next to Angelo’s]** You’re still right, I do have a sweet tooth. _Angelo’s?_ You had asked me after we spent hours in the kitchen working on my experiment. You laying on the floor as I reenacted crime scenes. I never thought that you would ask me that. I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. It was like the cabbie case all over again, that first night we ever had dinner. It was new and familiar all at once. It was crowded but we got our usual table. We could barely hear each other. You moved closer to me, your legs pressed against mine. I could feel the heat through our clothes. I could swear you could feel my pulse from anywhere in my body. We didn’t talk about the time that I was away. We talked about the past few weeks. You told me you felt happy again. Tell me what it is, what I did, that made you feel this way so that I can do it every single day for the rest of our lives.

  
 **[Post letter addressed to John Watson at 221B Baker Street]** You’re still getting mail here, or more mail I should say. You’ve switched your address back to Baker Street. I’m afraid to ask what this means.

  
 **[Blank piece of paper]** I asked. I couldn’t let it sit there in my mind anymore, swirling around and knocking over any other thoughts that I was trying to have. You said _Of course I changed my address back to here, this was always my home wasn’t it?_ If I could stop time, I would cut it out so I could live in that moment.

  
 **[Blank piece of paper]** This has grown into a habit, one that I cannot seem to break. I thought about typing all of these things but I like it better this way. We talked about Mary today. You read the USB. You told me that you decided months ago that you were not going to forgive her and that you were just waiting on me to come up with a plan. I talked to you about what I discussed with Mycroft. You asked me why I hadn’t told you of the plan sooner, I replied that I was giving you time. You smiled at me then. _You’ve changed so much._ You were smiling when you said it, I could even see the smile in your eyes. The one that I hadn’t seen since before I left. I didn’t know what to say so I just kept my eyes on you, too afraid that in an instant your smile would fade. It is different, different than the one you had given Mary, or the one you had given Major Sholto. I can’t describe it, but I can feel it in my chest, in every beat of my heart. It’s in the way your gaze holds mine. You moved closer to me then, our lungs sharing breath. Your lips touched mine, soft at first. I don’t know how long I had been waiting for it, but after the shock wore off I was a man who had been walking through a desert that was just given water. I pressed myself against you as you grabbed onto my shirt to pull me closer to you. Your body pressing tightly against mine. We were pressing so hard I think we were trying to crawl into each other. All these years we have wasted, all this time I never knew. I could taste the words on your lips, everything that I have always thought, I know that you have thought it too. We broke apart after a moment, breathing hard. You pressed your forehead against mine. _We’ll get through this. It’s always been you Sherlock Holmes, you keep me right._ You used the words I had at your wedding, I pushed myself against you again needing to taste you. Your lip broke open and the taste of copper flowed into my mouth. Your DNA. It’s as close as I can get to consuming you.

  
 **[Blank piece of paper]** This is it. The Grand Coda, 'Moriarty's' return. I’ve missed you the past few days at Baker Street. You’ve been keeping in contact though. I look at your texts all day. _I miss you. We’ll be together again soon_. How is it after all of this that you are the one comforting me? A few more days and everything should be over with and we will be back at Baker Street. My phone just vibrated again, I already know that it’s you. _I love you._ I love you too.


End file.
